


The Mentality of a Workhorse in Love.

by Whizbang



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur is a Prat, F/M, M/M, Merlin is a badass on a bad day, Merlin makes the first move, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Suicide, but not really this is a modern AU come on now, manservant makeouts, the rest is legendary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 21:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whizbang/pseuds/Whizbang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> There was a crash. It wasn’t a noise. The crash had no sound. It was raw and deathly. It smelled like oil and salt and black hair and broken things. Things would always break in a crash. Even a soundless one. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>Father-fearing Arthur Pendragon notices nothing but cherishes everything.<br/>Merlin is brave, but losing everything strips him down to desperation. </p><p>A modern AU about necessity, compassion, and the beauty in details often times overlooked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Regular Magic of Arthur Pendragon.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/530740) by [Whizbang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whizbang/pseuds/Whizbang). 



****

_You don’t die because you want to, Merlin._

_You die because it’s just what people do._

                  Swearing into his blankets, Merlin collapsed into his dreams as if he were a cotton coated spider, his hands like startled insect claws, jumped at their joints. His back arched violently. There was a voice that wasn’t his in his head. It hummed like a dragon; he branded like flame.

 

 

**_Let her go, Merlin. She did what you will do in time._ **

                                                              An omnious command.

 

                  Merlin’s eyes opened in resistance.

It was another nightmare. His phone, laying absently on the tabletop, was now the center of his attention.

He flipped open the screen.

        _4:13 AM._

             His heart slewed into a worried beat that was inconsistent, and draining.

    To call Freya at this hour would be absolute madness.

    To call Arthur, however, is a habit.

****

                     The phone rang in eight choruses before it was answered. In the daylight, Merlin would regret nothing.

****

                Arthur was in his bed when his phone vibrated so viciously he could not let sleep puddle in his brain, block out natural lighting, and deliciously close him off from the conscious world.

Hello. It’s Merlin.

He imagined it in his head in a voice that was not his own.

                  Hello...?

He decided the voice was sweeter than even the most deserving of dreams.

 

                “Hello, _Mer_ lin.”

           “Just calling to let you know, you can’t stay at the bar all night if you’re going to get up for that interview tomorrow.”

Arthur let out a half smile, contemplating making Merlin feel guilty for calling him, but deciding it didn’t need to be said. If Arthur had told him he was asleep, he might never call again.

               “You’re an idiot. Even if I came in with two prostitutes and no shirt on my back, I could get the best job they offer as soon as they hear me speak my name.”

          “You don’t have enough money to afford two prostitutes for that long, Arthur.”

              “Oh, right.” Being regular was a challenge for Arthur now. He wouldn’t admit it, but being cut off from many lifetime’s worth of billionare inheritance was hard to cope with at times. Four AM, being one of those times.

          “I called you to make sure you were alright,” Merlin's voice went soft. 

             “And I answered to tell you that I’m alright.”

 

There was a pause.

 

         “Alright.”

Miles away, a boy who slept in red neckerchiefs every night wondered about a girl he knew could not possibly be dead. It was only a dream, Merlin. It was only a dream, and Arthur is proof of that. He's reality. Learn to separate the two.

           “So what are you buying me for breakfast in a few hours, Merlin?”

        “Its not enough that I have to drive you there? I really have to buy you food, too?”

          “Yes. You do.” Arthur’s voice was deep and tired. He thought there was a bit of a condescending twat on the other end of the phone, but responding was manageable.

The grumble in response was proof of that.

       “I hope you know, I deal with you because no one else should have to,” Arthur said, sighing in response to the grumble.

          “Gwen would,” Merlin retorted. 

     “Gwen is too fond of me; I don’t want her to become obsessed.”

         “More like grow tired of you,” Merlin mumbled.

    “Shut up.”

            Merlin got out of bed, readied his keys, and prepared to go check on Freya. He did not yet realize this would be the first badly timed check-up of many before he misses her ultimatum.

 

        “Good night, Arthur.”

   “I , uh, I didn’t mean that you had to go,” Arthur hesitated. But Merlin had to go. 

       “I know, I’m sick of you already.” Merlin laughed.

   Arthur sighed fondly.

 

 

  “Fine then, when you see me in a suit tomorrow, do me a favor and try not to swoon at me like a girl.”

**“Good night, Arthur.”**

**  
**Arthur gulped loudly at the sound of a phone clicking into the dial tone, Merlin's voice leaving his ears for only a few more hours. Arthur wondered why Merlin was up at 4AM briefly before wrongly understanding that this was Merlin's way of taking care of Arthur. Even if Arthur hadn't been out at the bar, in fact, even if Merlin's call only made Arthur wake up in the middle of the night, doing more harm to his sleep cycles than good, Arthur was happy to take it. This was Merlin watching out for Arthur, and he treasured it more than Merlin could ever know.

 

What Arthur Pendragon didn't understand was that this instance was actually Arthur taking care of Merlin, giving him the clarity of thought at any hour of the day or night. That this was Arthur's heroism to Merlin, giving him stability to rationalize himself, and deal with his worries. Taking to Merlin was the biggest gift of all

and Merlin treasured it. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Pendragon, not a liar, but an optimist.

Take a span of time.  
 _Look at it._  
Start noticing the big things, the events, the ideas.   
  
Take a boy, and see him for the color of his hair.  
For his height, and weight, and voice.   
  
     There are details in the way people exist, obvious details, and then, there are three details everyone missed.

 

_The first detail of Arthur Pendragon and his journey to where he is now, went like this._

         A door far away shut softly.

Leather shoes tap and create rhythm in steady echoes.   
  
The fact was,

           Arthur had wanted to storm out of the interview room. He wanted to slam the door, pound powerfully at the floor with marching heels, and make a scene. He wanted to take Merlin’s hand and drag him out the front door. He wanted to throw him in the car, and leave as fast as he could.

          Arthur silently walked out of the interview room.

         He straightened his coat. He stacked his papers, and scooted in his chair. _Even if he felt like an idiot._ Arthur Pendragon was no idiot, he knew that. He never got nervous. That was what he most certainly was not, _not-_ nervous, but the interviewer didn’t see him as what he was, as Arthur. She saw him as his sweaty palm as they shook hands. She saw him as the stammer he spoke with. She saw him as the glazed over look he gave. The interviewer saw someone else.

                  Certainly _not_ Arthur Pendragon.

        Arthur was destroyed by this fraud, by the _not_ -Arthur that clogged his identity and soaked it up. Was it magic? A hoax? Was he sick? Is that what it was? _Not_ -Arthur just blew the interview. He couldn’t believe it, nor could he admit that to Merlin. No, _no,_ there were a lot of things that Arthur couldn’t do.

_**** _

He couldn’t face his father.

_**** _

       Arthur walked, trying to get himself back. He strode down the hallway, a new man outside of the room. The old one stayed back. The old one was a coward that was scared of what consequences lay in unemployment. Failing meant something. Arthur understood that.

          That’s why he considered it differently. It wasn’t a failure. Not anymore.

          The job was the coward. The job failed to meet his expectations.

          The job failed the interview with Arthur Pendragon. That is the tale he would tell.

_**** _

      And then the hallway ended, and he stepped to the edge where the wall met the room, where the river met the ocean, and there is where he found his man. Arthur found the one whose opinion of himself he cared for above all else. His jet black hair combed forward in short tuffs like night-grass grown in the direction of the wind. His blue eyes, like modest tears in the rain strewn down on strings that are secrets, and no one is allowed to know about them except him.

       No one notices. No one in those crystal eyes that globe like gypsy fortunes...

_**** _

      Merlin was currently looking into a cup, fascinated by something, and Arthur wondered what it was. He looked at Merlin, his eyes sweet with happiness. His mouth warm with breath, and his heart sucked the heat away from his hands. He slowed his walking into the room, the anger he carried like luggage thrown to dust and lost on a plane. Arthur was strong enough to face defeat in his own head. Merlin didn’t need to know about any of it.

            Arthur called for him with his eyes and looked at him with his mouth.

      When he crossed the border and Merlin could see him in the lobby, Arthur wasn’t looking at him anymore. Arthur was done being weak. It was important for him not to waver with his answers and be in charge. Merlin didn’t recognize that he had such a weakness to begin with. Arthur took pride in that. He didn’t let it go.

 

_(MORE TO COME SORRY I'M POSTING IT INCOMPLETE MY COMPUTER IS GOING TO DIE D:)_

**Author's Note:**

> So this started off as extra scenes and cut off parts from another fic, The Regular Magic of Arthur Pendragon. I thought these pieces were sweet enough to keep them and form another whole fic with them. If you're reading TRMAP, thank you for your awesomeness, I'm just waiting for my editor to be done editing. You've got a story comin', you better believe it. :)


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